


Dreams Deferred

by Larathia



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-05
Updated: 2013-01-05
Packaged: 2017-11-23 19:35:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/625788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Larathia/pseuds/Larathia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For samuraiter, via fic_promptly, "Dreams tucked inside a fez"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dreams Deferred

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Samuraiter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Samuraiter/gifts).



He turned the fez over in his hands, feeling the nap of the red cloth, absently straightening the tassel. _Fezzes are cool._ But fezzes also belonged to someone he wasn't sure he was, anymore. The madman with a box that Amy Pond had believed in, and by believing had made him real.

It felt like a mask, now, and one that didn't quite fit. It needed Amy Pond, her belief, to make it real.

He set the fez on the console, on a stand he'd made for it, and activated a small set of controls. Relatively new, added since the psychic pollen had gotten into the TARDIS, it now had another use.

The singing gardens of Rotanev IV, where every flower sang a different tone, and the wind played harmonies in the petals.

The ninja morris dancers of Izar II, because who didn't need ninja morris dancers in their life?

He thought about the great feasts on Sualocin VII, where eating the food in the wrong order or the wrong pace made people explode, but doing everything at the right pace in the right order was said to reveal the hidden secrets of the universe.

He thought about all of them, making the memories real, adding in his hopes for Amy; making bouquets of the singing flowers, matching wits with the ninja morris dancers, challenging the complex feasts. How it would be new to her, and Rory, and because it was new to them it would be new again to him, too.

As each memory, each wish, each dream became real in his mind, a delicate blue sphere took form on the console. A living dream, a solid dream.

So many dreams. And now she would live out her days in another country, years before she was ever born. But she had Rory, at least. She wasn't alone.

One by one, the Doctor put the little dreams in the red fez, tucked the fez in a chest, tucked the chest away in a corner.

Next to other chests, filled with other trinkets, holding other dreams deferred.


End file.
